


Stars and Stripes Forever

by star_spangled_smut



Series: Stars and Stripes Forever [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Avengers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Steve Rogers, Romance, Selectively Age of Ultron compliant, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Top Steve Rogers, YEAH STEVE TAKE THE SUIT OFF, steve rogers smut, that is if Chapter 3 counts as eventual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4914382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_spangled_smut/pseuds/star_spangled_smut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers meets scientist Victoria Bartlett and they fall in... well, definitely lust. But then the world needs saving.</p><p>[This is basically a romance novel starring Steve Rogers, the story that goes around the smut in "Dog-Eared Pages." Updated irregularly; I've got some written ahead but am basically making it up as I go.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Margaritas Do the Talking

I'm Victoria Bartlett, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and a lab manager assigned to Avengers Tower. My lab supports Stark Industries' R&D labs. I also happen to be dating Captain America himself, Steve Rogers, and I actually did not meet him at work. Nor did I meet him in the elevator.

There was this karaoke bar. My girlfriends and I had gotten completely shitfaced drunk one night and sung all the worst songs. (I hesitate to admit that there is video of me slaughtering Hozier's "Take Me to Church.") It was late, I was hungry and the kitchen was closed, so I settled up at the bar and went to this pizza place a block over.

"Ahwanna per'roni slice," I slurred.

Behind the glass, the server didn't so much as turn his head in my direction. He was throwing cheese pizza slices on paper plates and lining them up for my fellow drunks in the crowd.

"Pep-per-o-ni! Please!" I yelled.

The server glared at me, then jerked his head in the direction of the commercial ovens. "Four minutes."

"Come on!" I shouted, stomping my foot for emphasis.

A pair of strong hands gently took me by the shoulders. "Hey, you gonna be okay?" a deep voice said.

I turned around and beheld a tallish blond man in a nice shirt that stretched over his well-built shoulders. He smiled kindly, a smile that would be dazzling if he put his whole heart into it.

"Hello, sir! You are really hot, do you know that?" said my last three margaritas.

He laughed. "Thanks. Come sit down. You heard the guy. It'll be another four minutes before the pepperonis are done."

He pulled a chair out for me and I slumped my drunk ass in the seat. Then, delayed neurons finally reaching their destination, my brain suggested that I should at least attempt to be a polite human being in the presence of a hot guy (and a warm glow further down suggested that if I could act right, I might get laid by said hot guy). I sat up straighter and gave polite conversation another shot.

"Hi. I'm Victoria. Vick. My friends are singing karaoke down the street and I could _not_ stay there another minute. Kayla cannot sing like Beyoncé, don't let her tell you she can."

"Steve Rogers." He smiled again from across the table. "I'm out with friends, too. The bar's kitchen was closed so I came here for a slice. Pepperoni, as it happens."

"Me _too_!" I gushed. He and I had so much in common! "It'll be a minute, though."

"So I heard." Steve laughed. "Are you gonna get a soda, too?"

"Yes. They have Pepsi here, I think. I have to be done with margaritas for tonight."

"Okay. Sit tight." He stood up and went to the counter just as a server pulled a fresh pepperoni pizza out of the oven. The server put two slices on cheap paper plates as Steve grabbed two plastic bottles of soda from a fridge. He handed the cashier a few bucks and brought our food back to the table.

"Thank you so much," I said.

"My pleasure."

Halfway through his slice, Steve asked, "Are you going straight home after this?"

I batted my eyelashes. "Why, Mr. Rogers! Are you asking me to come home with you?"

He laughed again. "It's Captain Rogers," he said. "Mr. Rogers is a different guy, I've found."

The floor absolutely refused to open up and swallow me whole. Nor did I spontaneously combust with shame, though as hot as my face was, it felt like I was close to that.

"No, I just wanted to make sure you get home all right."

"Oh. I'm gonna meet up with my friends and we'll all ride home together. Um, I could give you my number? My for-real number," I offered generously.

"Sure. I'll walk you back to the bar and call you in the morning."

I pulled out my phone and navigated to Contacts, then slid it over to him so he could add his number. "Here, give me your phone," I said.

He did the same and gave me his. I trusted him enough to enter my full, correct name and real number. Also, I couldn't think of anything better than "Your sweet Victoria" to enter as a joke.

#

We walked over to My Sister's Place, the bar on the next block. My squad was just coming out the door, Kayla with her phone out—dialing mine, as I discovered, feeling it buzz in my bag. I held it up to show the screen as he and I approached.

"I'm right here," I shouted.

"Vick! Oh, thank God," Kayla shouted back.

He put a hand on my arm. "I'll leave you to them. Call me if you get into trouble tonight."

"Thanks. It was good to meet you." Of course I had forgotten his name.

"Good to meet you too, Vick. Good night," he said, walking away.

"Good night!"

Kayla rushed to my side as soon as he turned the corner. "Who. Was. THAT?!"

"He bought me pizza, and I will tell you who he is as soon as I remember," I said.

"Viiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick!" Kayla and the girls groaned as one.


	2. THAT Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Victoria share breakfast and then some.

My phone rang in the morning, when I was conscious but still bleary. Seeing "Incoming call: Steve Rogers" woke me right the hell up, though. _No way._ I knew the name, I knew from S.H.I.E.L.D. briefings who Steve Rogers was, and I remembered a tall blond guy with the shoulder-to-waist ratio of a Dorito coming to my rescue the night before, but I had not put all those things together in my drunken state. Hell yes, I picked up.

"Hi, Vick? Victoria? This is Steve. We met last night but you might not remember me."

"Yeah, hi! Hi, Steve! I do actually remember you. You, um, bought my pizza. Thanks."

"Oh, don't—no, it was nothing. Listen, I just wanted to make sure you got home okay."

"Yes, I did. I'm here in my own apartment, completely alone and unsullied. I'll probably even make it to 'fine' once my ibuprofen kicks in and I drink at least a gallon of water."

He laughed. "That's—that's good."

"I was pretty drunk last night. Hey, you seem really cool, so can we get together again now that I'm sober? I'll buy you breakfast?" Either he wasn't _that_ Steve Rogers, and meeting him would tell me that, or he was and I'd brutally regret wasting this chance.

"Victoria, it's enough to know that you're—"

"Please, call me Vick. And I insist. You were such a gentleman last night. Let me buy you breakfast."

"All right, if you insist. I would love that."

"Okay! Um, there's this perfect hole-in-the-wall breakfast place on 42nd, Blue Moon."

"I've been by there. That's only a few blocks from me."

"Awesome. See you there in an hour?"

"In an hour. See you then."

#

When I got to Blue Moon, Steve was already there and seated at a table in the back, but he stood when he saw me. He looked better than I remembered. I noted his plaid shirt and khakis; it would have been a dumpy outfit on any other guy, but Steve made it work. I was starting to think I was a lucky, lucky girl. 

"I ordered coffee for you. I hope you don't mind," he said. 

Beautiful, kind, lovely man. I had done something right in my life just to get here, to this table. "No, coffee is wonderful. Coffee is ideal right now."

"Feeling all right?"

"Much more human, yes, thanks."

I noticed a few of the other restaurant patrons trying to do the subtle-point-and-whisper thing (it's never subtle). I was pretty sure that I looked fine despite my hangover, so...

"I'm going to plead alcohol amnesty here. I have to ask you a stupid question," I said quietly. "Are they pointing at us because you're Captain America?"

He chuckled. "I think they are. The cook and both waitresses asked me for my autograph before you got here."

"That's pretty conclusive proof," I teased.

One of those waitresses arrived at the table to take our orders. She couldn't take her eyes off Steve and seemed to have a hard time breathing. "W-What can I get you?"

He gave her a polite smile and ordered eggs and hash browns. I opted for pancakes and sausage.

"Thanks, Evelyn," Steve said, like he'd known her forever. Evelyn held onto her cool until she got back to the kitchen, where she, the cook, and the other waitress let out the most joyful combined squee I'd heard in a month. Which was great for them but horrible for hungover me. I thought my head would crack open.

Steve shrugged and looked a little embarrassed. 

"So, uh..." He drummed his fingers on the table. Sexy fingers. I forgave the noise they made. "You know what I do. What do you do? Where do you work?"

"Sort of where you work." I smiled. "R&D labs in the Tower."

"Really. You work for Stark?"

"No, it's actually..." I lowered my voice. "It's actually S.H.I.E.L.D. I was assigned to Stark Tower four years ago, and I stayed."

"I'm surprised I've never seen you."

"You'd notice a quiet little lab mouse like me?"

"Victoria... I noticed you." Steve fixed me with a genuine smolder. The way he looked at me lit a fire in my lower belly and made me feel like the only woman in the room. Warmth suffused my entire being.

I recovered myself, but possibly not quickly enough. "The next time you come to the seventy-fifth floor, we'll see. I don't expect you spend much time in the lab."

"I might," he said. "Stark tells me he's got a lab developing some more durable training equipment for me. I tend to..." He cleared his throat and smirked a little. "It breaks sometimes. Pieces fall apart, the mats split. It's awful."

We shared a laugh. His eyes met mine and that short laugh faded into a charged quiet. It became A Moment, a connection between Steve and me; some energy passed between us that tuned me into him and him to me. If I never saw Steve again after today, I felt, it'd be a terrible loss.

Steve suddenly drew back his hand. He'd been reaching toward me and almost knocked over his water glass. He chuckled at the near spill, and it was enough to break the moment. I smiled politely and toyed with my silverware, unsure now whether he'd felt what I felt.

"Two eggs over easy and hash browns," Evelyn announced, setting Steve's plate in front of him. "Full stack of pancakes with sausage."

"Thank you." I was suddenly remembering that we were in a restaurant, that it was Saturday morning, that I'd been out with my girls last night, that I'd left the bar and—Steve. I'd met Steve. And here we were. 

I dug into my pancakes, feeling a dizziness that I couldn't blame on my hangover. No, that was the fault of the super soldier across the table. As we ate he passed me the butter, the syrup, cream and sugar for my coffee refill, extra napkins, anything I might need before I could ask for it. If I'd said I was cold, he'd have asked the waitress to turn the thermostat up.

The bill paid (Steve had made a grab for it, but again, I insisted), we headed for the door. There was a small crowd, some with cameras. Steve glanced around, analyzing the situation, then guided me back toward the kitchen, his hand on the small of my back. I'd had no idea there were so many nerve endings in that part of my body; even through my clothes, I was acutely aware of every square millimeter in contact with his hand.

"Evelyn, would you mind helping Victoria out the back door in a few minutes?" he asked. She nodded, then smiled at me like we were now part of a secret mission. "I'll go out front and pose for a few pictures. Vick, hang a left when you go and cut through the alleyway. I'll meet you on 43rd."

Steve strode toward the door, putting on a big smile when he reached it. Flash bulbs popped and the crowd pushed closer to him. Steve shook a few hands, signed a couple of autographs, posed for a photo with a child wearing a Captain America costume. Then he waved at the crowd and started walking up the street.

"This way," Evelyn said in my ear.

Out the door and through the alley I went until I hit 43rd, then hung back a little. Steve strode by, alone, then saw me and ducked into the alley. He'd persuaded the crowd not to follow him.

"Vick, you made it! Sorry to send you through the alley, but if you'd come out with me, you'd be in the papers tomorrow morning."

"Or on TMZ within the hour. It's fine, Steve. I can handle an alleyway," I said.

"Can I walk you home?"

"The truth is, I don't want to go home yet." 

Steve looked at me, curious, then gave me a shy smile.

I caught a whiff of his soap, or maybe a shaving lotion, as we stood so close together. It was a simple but musky scent. Combined with that sweet, casual smile of his, it was going to remove my ability to speak entirely. 

"I'd like to stay with you awhile longer too," he said. His eyes swept a path from my head to my toes and back up again. Was it me, or did he linger a little bit on certain curvy parts of me? Because those curvy parts really, desperately wanted to feel his hands on them.

I slid my hands over his chest and up toward his neck, outside the collar of his shirt. Following my lead, Steve dropped his hands to my waist, then slid them a little lower. I tilted my head up. Steve's breathing seemed to catch for a second. He glanced at my lips, then stared into my eyes for a long moment. "May I kiss you?"

"I was really, really hoping you would."

His kiss was gentle at first, tentative. I let my lips go soft and yielding, letting him take the lead now. I pressed my hands to his neck, taking in the feel of his warm skin under mine, and ran my fingers under his collar, then through the short, bristly hairs at the back of his neck. He kissed harder, more hungrily, holding me tight in his rock-solid arms—and just as the kiss was heating up, Steve's phone buzzed in his pocket.

He ignored it, and part of my brain silently celebrated. The rest of me was memorizing how it felt to have my breasts pushed against Steve's hard chest, how well my pelvis lined up with his, what exactly might be the dimensions of the ridge that was pressing up against my lower belly. His hands were starting to wander, and I was trying to decide how best to encourage that, when Steve's phone buzzed again. He reluctantly broke the kiss.

"Rogers," he answered, his voice pitched a frustrated octave or two deeper. "No, Stark, I'm—Stark—"

He listened for a few moments.

"All right. Give me ten minutes to get back and suit up."

"You're in demand," I said, letting my disappointment show.

"At the worst times. Where can I walk you to?"

"The Tower. I live on the fifty-third floor. One of the Stark Industries employee residence levels."

"Let's go, then." Steve set a brisk pace, though he made sure I could keep up, and we were back in the elevator in five minutes.

"Fifty-third floor and hold the doors shut, JARVIS," he said.

"Hold the doors shut?"

"For this." Steve swept me into his arms and kissed me, a kiss that I felt down to my toes. I surrendered to it immediately, wrapping my arms around him. His hands caressed my back and flirted with the curve of my ass. I smoothed my hands over the muscles of his chest and shoulders, sensing their restraint even through the fabric of his shirt. He kissed me over and over. I matched every one. The elevator reached my floor and stopped, but the doors didn't open for a long while. Not until Steve lifted his mouth from mine.

"I'm sorry I can't take the time to see you to your door," he said, his voice husky. "Vick, I want to continue this when I get back."

I nodded. "The moment you get back."

The doors closed and he was gone.


	3. Honey, I'm Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's back from a mission and he's ready. Good thing Victoria's home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also Chapter 1 in "Dog-Eared Pages." Now with added plot!

Steve was resting his head in the Quinjet en route to Lisbon. It was a long flight.

"Have you met Jessica in Operations?" Natasha asked.

He didn't bother opening his eyes. "Stop finding me a date."

"Don't tell me you're giving up."

"I'm not giving up. I just don't need your help."

"You found somebody," she said.

Steve just smiled.

#

On Monday night, someone knocked at my door. It was Steve—in the suit. _Oh my stars and stripes._ I was glad to see him, yes, but seeing him in the suit was... inspirational.

"Steve, you're back! Is everything okay?"

"It's fine, Vick. I just got in. JARVIS told me you were home, so I thought—would you like to come up?"

"To your place?"

"Yeah. You said the minute I got back, so here I am." He gave me that charismatic smirk of his.

"I like that you're a man of your word, Captain Rogers."

Steve's suite had its own entrance, views of south Manhattan, and less mid-century modern furniture than I expected. Less of everything than I expected, actually. There wasn't much art hanging; a record player and some records, but no knick-knacks; only a few shelves of books, which looked evenly divided between vintage and new. No dishes or clothes strewn around like the bachelor pad this technically was. It didn't quite seem lived-in.

"Your place is beautiful. It's very... clean. Clean lines. Lots of space," I stammered.

"Because I'm never here," Steve said. "I spend most of my time with the Avengers in one way or another. Tony hosts parties, even though it's usually just us. Or I'm down in the gym, training. And today I had a date with a pretty girl."

He took my hands in his gloved ones and smiled.

"I hope you didn't forget that kiss in the elevator."

"How could I? My toes are still curled a little," I said.

"Then let's keep going."

His lips were soft against mine, but the more we kissed, the more intense he was about it. Steve was kissing me like he needed air, like he needed more of a release than kissing could give.

"Wow. Where did this come from?"

"Vick," he breathed against my neck, planting kisses from my earlobe to my shoulder.

"I'm not complaining. This just seems... new."

Steve sighed but kept holding me closely. "I didn't want to leave it there on Saturday. I didn't want to leave _you_." 

The growing ridge in his pants seconded that emotion, and I could think of a lot I wanted to do with Steve and without his pants. But our relationship was still new. I hadn't met any of the other Avengers, his friends; the only person who even knew I was dating Steve was Kayla, and the rest of our girlfriends were sworn to secrecy about that drunken karaoke night. Were Steve and I going to jump straight to "honey, I'm home"?

He looked at me, waiting for an answer.

"How... how does the suit come off?"

Steve smiled and took my hands in his. "Don't let the suit stop you."

He kissed me again, that intensity still driving him. This time I knew where it came from and, most importantly, what I wanted to do with it. I ran my hands over his suit, pulling at any likely piece of fabric, looking for whatever held it together. Steve pulled a layer off the top and away, and I unzipped a layer underneath that. Velcro was involved somehow. Soon, the rest of the top slid down and Steve was naked to the waist, sweaty and gorgeous, undisguised lust in his blue eyes.

I was ready to match him.

We stared at each other like were going to spar instead of fuck. I toed off my Chucks and yanked my shirt over my head, barely breaking eye contact. Steve's gloves were long gone and his boots were on their way. He unzipped another short zipper, then hooked his thumbs in the waist of the suit and shoved it down. I wriggled out of my skinny jeans and flung off my underwear. Steve wasn't wearing any. We were both down to skin at almost the same moment; he stepped toward me and I to him, our lips crashing into each other first. Steve's huge, strong arms enveloped me, my smaller ones gripping his neck. Driven by desire, I hooked my leg around his, opening my hips. He responded by taking my hips in his hands and lifting me up, the better for me to wrap my legs around him. I'm not a small woman, but Steve barely needed to expend any effort to hold me. Part of me wanted to wait, to take it slow and pay attention to everything, but part of me wanted Steve to slide me down onto his cock _now_.

"Bedroom?" he asked, keeping up his attentions to the sensitive parts of my neck.

"Yes, oh, god yes."

I planted my own kisses up and down his neck as he strode across the room. Then I nibbled his earlobe. He stumbled, fell back against the bedroom door frame, and stared at me for a moment.

"Want me to do it again?"

"Yeah, but let's try to make it to the bed so I won't shove you up against the wall."

"Mmm. I might like to get shoved against the wall."

"Next time, then." Steve set me down on the bed. I scrambled backward and he followed, crawling between my legs. "And another time"—he kissed my thigh—"I'll keep you here"—he kissed my other thigh—"and make this last." He kissed my mound, then spread my legs and settled them on his shoulders. He gave me a piercing stare and the hottest smirk. My eyes went wide for a moment, then fluttered shut as Steve lowered his mouth and went to work, slowly licking my folds on each side. Shit, he was good at this. His tongue flirted with my hole, then slowly traced a path up, up, up, ending at my clit. Steve alternated running his tongue along my inner folds and licking and sucking at my sensitive clit until I was moaning and tossing my head back and forth, my hands in his hair as his head bobbed up and down.

He rose and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, letting my legs slide down his shoulders. He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a condom, rolling it on with practiced ease, and leaned forward over top of me. "Kiss me," he said, his blue eyes darkened with lust, his voice commanding. I complied, my hands in his hair again, and angled my hips in search of his.

"God, Steve, don't make me wait any longer," I moaned.

He smiled and lowered himself, positioning his cock at my entrance, teasing me with the head of it. "Ready?"

"Yes! Fuck!"

His eyes locked with mine and he thrust slowly, just the head at first, back and forth. Steve's cock was deliciously thick and hard. My eyelids fluttered shut. I moaned and opened my hips wider for him. 

"Oh, fuck, Victoria." Steve thrust his cock deeper and deeper into my pussy, tortuously slowly, waiting for my soft, wet inner walls to adjust. He had an impressive level of control. I took more and more of him with each thrust, the fullness driving me closer to ecstasy. If Steve's cock inside me just like this was all I'd ever get, I could die happy.

Steve braced himself on his elbows, letting my body take a little of his weight, and set up a slow, easy rhythm. My tits bounced on each stroke and my nipples brushed against Steve's solid chest, heightening the sensation of what his cock was doing to my pussy. He rested his face in my neck and groaned in pleasure. My hands now gripped his shoulders, and I could feel the muscles under his skin working to balance his body over mine. 

"Steve, oh my fuck..."

He increased the tempo, and I pulled my knees up, improving the angle. "Shit, that's so good. You feel so good, Vick."

He kissed me hard, his tongue seeking entrance to my mouth, then thrusting inside it. I sucked his tongue and he moaned a little, then sped up his hips, thrusting his cock faster and faster. The delicious friction was going to tear me apart and I wanted more, so much more.

"Don't stop! God, Steve, don't stop!"

He didn't. I could feel the tension, need, building low in my belly, my inner walls gripping Steve's cock on every thrust. The first waves of my orgasm were so close. I forced my eyes open to take in Steve's broad shoulders rocking over top of me, slid my hands down his chest and around to his back, filling my senses with him.

"That's it. That's my girl," he said, kissing my neck, then kissing my mouth again. Tension was building in his body, too—and at last he dropped his self-restraint and gave himself over to whatever his body wanted to do, which was to pound me into the mattress. He took me with hard, driving strokes. My moans elevated into short screams. It was all so much, and it was exactly what my body needed. My peak was so close, so close...

"Fuck yes. Yes! Steve!"

"Victoria," he whispered, and it was just the push I needed. I screamed my release, the walls of my vagina clamping down on Steve's cock. A few more erratic, blissful thrusts and he groaned, finding his own release, the proof of it spurting inside me but muted by the condom.

His strokes slowed to a lazy pace, then stopped. Steve kissed my neck, then rested his head there.

"I didn't get to nibble your earlobes again," I said.

"Next time. There's a lot we'll do next time," he grinned, rolling off me. He dealt with the condom and snuggled us under the covers, my head on his well-muscled arm. It was pretty firm for a pillow but I didn't care.

"You're pretty sure there's going to be a next time," I teased.

Steve took me seriously. "Do you not want—was everything okay? I didn't—"

"It was great! It was _so_ great. Yes, I want there to be a next time. It's just... this is a pretty big step for us, and I didn't spend a lot of time thinking through it because I wanted to climb you like a tree and you were gonna let me."

"Let you? I wanted to _make you_. It was all I could think about."

I nuzzled into him, my hand splayed possessively over his chest. He rested his hand on mine.


	4. Out of Bed, Into the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to bring everybody in and get back to avenging.

Tony had heard the scream and found it interesting. It wasn't a _help, emergency!_ sort of scream. No, this was a kind of scream Tony knew quite well. He just didn't recognize the voice.

He did a quick head count of Avengers in the common room. Bruce was in the lab; one other missing.

"JARVIS, is Steve in his suite?"

"Yes, sir, he is."

"Is he alone?"

"No, sir. A woman is visiting Captain Rogers, and I doubt they would like to be disturbed."

Clint whooped. Tony just grinned. Natasha, suddenly really satisfied with the popcorn she was eating, kept her eyes on the TV screen.

"I wonder if it's Lillian from Accounting," she said idly.

"Who's Lillian from Accounting?"

#

Too soon for my liking, Steve started getting restless. I untangled myself from his arm and he sat up a little.

"Listen, this might be really soon, but, um..." He scratched the back of his head. "It's not all that late at night. Most of the team is probably still around. Would you... Do you want to meet them?"

 _Do I want to meet the Avengers. DO I?!_ My inner fangirl was shrieking. Outside, I did my best to be Steve's Awesome New Girl Who Is Completely Chill With Everything. "Steve, I'd love to meet your friends," I said.

#

The door to the common room slid open, and Steve stepped in first.

"Congratulations, Grandpa!" Tony shouted. A burst of confetti rained down from the top of the doorway, settling onto Steve’s head and shoulders. He was unimpressed.

"I heard you were on a sexy, sexy date tonight. I mean, I _heard_ your date," Tony said. I blushed fiercely. Damn, I'd expected those walls to be more soundproof. At least it didn't matter now if I hadn't been able to tame my post-sex hair. "She sounds like a lovely person. When do we get to meet her?"

"Now, Stark. Right now. Though you should try to make a better second impression." Steve, shoulders squared as if dignity were renewable through posture alone, moved stiffly aside to let me in the room. "Victoria Bartlett, this is Tony Stark."

"Uh, thank you, Steve. I've met Mr. Stark, though under much different circumstances."

"Victoria, from R&D! Yes, we met when I hired you on. I'm so glad Steve picked a fellow scientist. Now _you_ can tell him how to use The Google. Natasha, it's not Lillian, it's Victoria from R &D!" Tony shouted over his shoulder.

Clint pulled a bill out of his wallet and handed it to Natasha.

"This is Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Back there in the lab is Dr. Bruce Banner," Steve continued.

"A pleasure to meet you," Natasha said. She was being totally friendly to the girl Steve brought home, I knew, but she was also sizing me up. The question was whether she was giving me a "break his heart and I will kill you in a very literal way" sizing-up or a "you've made it to Avengers Tower and could be HYDRA or worse" sizing-up. I decided it was likely both.

"Lovely to meet you," I said.

Tony was pulling up files on a holograph console. "Cap, come take a look at this."

"Is it the hostiles from earlier today?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, but this isn't Lisbon, it's Saskatchewan. They disappeared from our radar and have been slowly coming back over the last fifteen minutes. You got a strategy, or has your afternoon delight sapped it right out of you?"

Steve glared at him.

Clint studied the holograph. "That's great. Such a good thing we came all the way back to New York, got a little rest first."

The three men lowered their voices to analyze the threat, and I couldn't hear more.

Natasha opted to stay where she was for the moment. "Popcorn?" she asked, offering me the bowl.

"Thanks." I took a seat next to her on the couch.

"It's got to be tough, being the first girl Steve's brought home since 1945," she teased. "You have a lot of expectations to live up to."

I stared straight ahead. Yes. This was completely awkward, I had no idea what to do with myself, and making chitchat with the Black Widow had not featured in practice conversations with my mirror.

"What do you even do on a date with Captain America?"

Perhaps I should think of her as Steve's friend and not, you know, an infamous assassin. I summoned enough bravery to needle back. "What do _you_ do, hanging out with Captain America when he's just being Steve Rogers?"

"Mostly introduce him to pop culture he hasn't heard of before. No war movies, but the occasional monster flick is fun." She gestured to the early Godzilla movie on the TV.

"We find restaurants," I said. "I've been trying to decide whether to take him to this retro diner I know about."

Natasha's eyes sparkled just a little.

"Natasha, I was wondering if you would—oh, hello," said Bruce, who had just left the lab.

"This is Victoria from R&D," she said. "Steve brought her home."

"That's wonderful. Which lab do you work at?"

"I'm on the 75th floor. We do small repairs, nanofabrication, and testing."

"Do you? I'll have to stop by sometime. I have a nano design that could use some work. You might have a few ideas for it."

"Absolutely, Dr. Banner. We'd love to see you there."

Just then, Tony's holographic thing started flashing. Even at a distance, I could see there were an awful lot of blinking red dots on the active screen. Tony and Steve shared a look.

"Suit up," Steve said.

"I'm halfway there." Tony clicked a couple of bracelets onto his wrists. Clint was already gone.

Natasha was up, bowl of popcorn forgotten. "Bruce, we may need you," she said.

Bruce considered the holographic screen. More red dots were converging on the satellite image of a building.

"Yeah, you might," he said slowly.

And just like that, the room was empty. Except for me, standing there practically mid-conversation still. If the popcorn bowl were spinning on the floor at my feet, it would have been too perfect.

"JARVIS, um... can I just leave? Will that break anything? Cause some security breach?"

The AI didn't answer for a few moments. Then: "Negative, Ms. Bartlett. Mr. Stark has granted you access to this room, the elevator, and Captain Rogers' quarters. You may leave and re-enter as you like." 

Thoughtful of him. "Do you know how long they'll be gone?"

"I couldn't predict, Ms. Bartlett."

"I'll just... go home, then."

#

I turned on the water in my shower, though in a weird, gross way, I didn't want to wash away the memory of Steve, naked, on top of me, inside me, _oh god yes_... but in a practical sense, I probably needed to put clean clothes on.

What do you do when you date Steve Rogers? Expect to get left in the dust because the world needs saving. And how can you even compare? How could you say, "No, Steve, ignore the alarm, stay with me"? "Probably only a few people will die, it's fine"? "The other Avengers will take care of it, don't get out of bed"?

Nope. Steve had introduced me to the rest of the Avengers and I had access to his quarters, which meant this was already serious. So, I was going to start this girlfriend thing off right, and I was going to be stoic and go on with my life while Captain America fought the hostiles, whatever they were this time.

Into the hot shower with me.


	5. Mission to Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Victoria should just text each other. In the meantime, let's fight some bad guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added more Natasha Romanov and the rest of the Avengers. Maybe some domestic fluff in later chapters. Is it weird to mash up Avengers domestic fluff and Steve Rogers/OFC smut? Well, I'm gonna do it.

On the Quinjet, Steve looked at his phone. No missed calls; no new messages.

"Haven't heard from her?" Natasha asked from the jump seat next to him.

Steve looked at her quizzically.

"Don't be too surprised. We did kind of leave her spinning in the middle of the room. Victoria's had an eventful day."

"You think I should call her?"

"Yes." Her tone left the _you idiot_ part unsaid.

"Do you like her, or do you just want me to be dating somebody?"

"Both." Natasha shrugged, giving nothing away.

Steve chuckled, a noiseless laugh that shook his shoulders once and put a smile on his face, but the smile didn't go all the way to his eyes.

She noticed. It was exactly the kind of thing that Natasha would notice, was trained to notice, and in fact had been looking for, Steve realized. This project didn't seem to be about setting him up with some dame just 'cause it'd be funny for 95-year-old Captain America to be dating again.

He sat up a little straighter, turned to stare right at her. "You care," he said. "No, you actually do want me to find someone. And Victoria—"

"You brought her home, Steve. You didn't just call her. You didn't just take her out on a date. You brought her home, and then you introduced her to us. Yeah, I care. She's nice. She might even suit you," she said, smiling. "Call Victoria."

Steve stared at his phone, but he hadn't summoned the courage to tap Victoria's number before Natasha broke in with an idea.

"Tell her I'd like to hang out with her, too. We'll have a girls' night." She rolled her eyes a little and smiled at the ridiculousness of it. But Steve was pretty sure Natasha didn't do girls' nights.

"You gonna paint each other's nails and talk about how I kiss?"

"Rogers, that was _one time_ , for the sake of the mission. I wasn't taking notes."

"You damn well were taking notes. After that kiss, you asked me if it was my first since 1945, like I'm no good at kissing when I'm surprised and it's for the sake of the mission. You thought you had me figured out, all the way down to my boots, and then you started finding me women for kissing practice."

Natasha let her jaw drop in mock surprise. Her eyes were still smiling.

"Well, I'm done with practice, and I found Victoria. Don't scare her off, don't paint her nails unless she asks you to, and don't talk about how it's been 70 years since I've been with anybody and make old man jokes."

" _Has_ it been 70 years since you've been with anybody?" Natasha asked with an eyebrow raised.

Steve glared at her. She replied only with a self-satisfied little smile. He felt like she'd gotten exactly the information she was looking for, but he didn't remember revealing anything.

He'd gone after Victoria, and they'd maybe rushed into bed but she'd been pleased. Quite pleased, Steve thought, remembering her hands in his hair, the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her wet heat gripping his cock as she came and he followed. Steve didn't have half the experience that a lot of guys had, but he did all right.

He adjusted himself discreetly. His cock had no sense of decency. Good thing Barton couldn't see him and Banner and Natasha both had their eyes closed, either sleeping or absorbed in their own thoughts; regardless, definitely not looking at him. Shit, he thought. He couldn't call Victoria here. What could he even say to her that everybody else could overhear? Not a description of the images and plans going through his mind right now, that's for sure. And he wasn't sure a man should say that sort of thing in a text.

This mission had better be short.

Steve sighed and settled his mind to planning out the mission instead. HYDRA—at least, intel strongly suggested it was HYDRA—had infiltrated a S.H.I.E.L.D. base in northern Saskatchewan where a critical weapons and information cache was stored. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were overpowered and needed backup. Natasha would go in first, then make her way to the northeast door to let Cap in, Hawkeye covering him. Recon suggested that the hatch was a submarine-style entryway and his shield probably wouldn't fit—and that there were enough HYDRA agents inside that the shield would prove useful. Once the base was clear, Natasha would retrieve hard drives with as much of the data as she could. Banner would help unless there was a Code Green. Stark and Barton would assess the state of the weapons cache. Cap would need to find the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who were likely held hostage and radio Phil Coulson, who was setting up an extraction team for the agents, the hard drives, and the weapons. The base, at best, would get locked up tight until HYDRA forgot about it; in practical terms, it was probably lost.

Shouldn't take too long, but of course, it was taking hours just to fly to Saskatchewan and back. It'd be morning in New York before they were done. A Tuesday morning in New York, too. Victoria was a civilian. She'd be at work in the lab when he got back, probably, and he couldn't just go down there and interrupt. Probably.

Well, that gave the team until Tuesday afternoon to hand HYDRA their asses and get back on the Quinjet. Steve let his head drop back against the uncomfortable headrest and closed his eyes to wait, or sleep, until they landed in Saskatchewan.

#

It turns out that going on with my life while Steve was away on a mission pretty much meant catching up with my Netflix queue. Kayla wanted to know everything that happened, and I wasn't up for telling her everything yet. She'd finally quit blowing up my phone a few minutes ago.

Based on the layout of the building I saw, the Avengers were probably headed to—oh, fuck if I know. Maybe that kind of information came with superhero clearance levels. It was a building, there were red dots, and that was all I knew. Steve was probably in the air right now, or in the thick of fighting. It was stupid to think he'd stop in the middle of it to call me and whisper sweet nothings or even to text me that he was okay. 

Like he couldn't take care of himself? _Ugh, self, get it together._

I turned off the lights in my apartment and went to bed. Steve probably wouldn't be back until the morning at least, and there was nothing I could do from here.

#

Barton landed the cloaked Quinjet at some distance from the compromised S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Natasha exited and made her way to the entrance point, a concealed hatch on the roof near a grassed-over, disused helipad. There was no guard posted outside. Cap took up his position, Barton close behind. Banner would stay with the jet until the base was clear, unless the team made it clear the Other Guy was needed.

In the air over the base, flying in the Iron Man Mark 27 suit, Stark's HUD mirrored the holographic screen from Avengers Tower, showing red outlines of each HYDRA agent's position in the base.

"Eh, you're clear enough," Stark reported over comms. "No goons within ten feet of the hatch. There's a couple inside each of the main doors, though."

"Oh, _plenty_ of room," Natasha quipped.

"JARVIS, did I pack the bunker-buster, just in case?"

"Ready to equip, sir."

"Let's try not to need the bunker-buster," Cap said. "There's still S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in this base."

"How do we tell S.H.I.E.L.D. from HYDRA?" Natasha asked.

"If they're comin' at you, it's probably safe to fire back."

She laughed, and he watched her drop through the hatch. After a minute, there was a lot of swearing in Russian coming through the comm link, during which Steve positioned himself next to the northeast door and waited.

The door opened a crack.

Steve waited a moment longer, just in case it wasn't Natasha who opened it, but sounds of a scuffle deeper in the base told him caution wasn't necessary. He kicked the door wide, held the shield ready, and charged in.

No one charged him back. No shots rang out. Unconscious HYDRA agents littered the floor, the Black Widow standing among them, fixing her gear.

"What the hell?"

"This must have been the B squad," she said. "That was hardly even a challenge. Tony, what's it look like from up there?"

"It... did not look like a challenge. I'm not showing any actives. You didn't even save us one?"

Natasha was good, but this? Recon said there should have been a hundred HYDRA goons in there. "This isn't right," Steve said, glancing at Barton. "There's something not right about this." Barton looked similarly uneasy and nodded in agreement. 

#

I tossed and turned in my bed, phone in hand, counting how many hours sleep I could still get before work if I fell asleep right now. I'd pretty well talked myself out of expecting a call or text from Steve. There was no reason why he should contact me, and yet... 

I willed the screen to light up with his name. That always works.

#

Steve called Banner in from the jet, and the five Avengers began methodically searching the empty base. A few of the weapons were missing, but according to Natasha, the computer system was still secure. They gathered the usual backups without incident.

"It's not that HYDRA cleared out. It's that there's no S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, either," Steve mused. "Stark, what did—"

He groaned. "I told you, JARVIS can show you the whole thing when we get back to the Tower. The place was overrun with hostiles when we got here, but only twelve of them came at Nat. Those guys, right there." Stark pointed to the twelve bodies on the ground. "The rest of them went off the grid. They just faded into the shadows. Legolas and I watched the exits, and nobody left. This bunker has no lower floors."

"Shall we stick around and see if they come back?" Natasha asked.

"Nah. If they're gone, they're gone," Steve said. "Let's get back to New York."

"Ooh, good plan. If we hurry, your girlfriend might be awake when we get there. JARVIS, remind me to have the Captain's bedroom thoroughly soundproofed as soon as possible."

"I'll notify the maintenance department, sir."

Steve's jaw tensed. This was going to be worse than that time he chided Stark for his language when he'd only said "shit."

#

He had left his phone on the jet during the mission, but Victoria hadn't called while he was gone. She's a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent herself. She's no stranger to missions. She probably just got some sleep, Steve told himself. 

Barton took them airborne and Banner, on the other side of the jet, closed his eyes. It'd be hours yet before they were back in New York. Natasha caught Steve turning his phone over and over in his hands.

"She's not gonna text you."

Steve stared blankly at her.

She tried not to roll her eyes this time. "For one thing, she's probably asleep, like a normal person. For another, she knows not to try to contact you during a mission, so don't stress because she's doing her job."

"I'll call her when we get back, then."

"It'll be the middle of the night. Just text her something sweet and ask her to dinner."

"Something sweet." Steve stared at his phone again, but this time the blank screen seemed to challenge him.

"Tell her what you liked about yesterday," Natasha said with a smirk.

"That's sweet?"

"You could _say_ it sweetly."

Steve sighed.

Natasha settled back into her seat to catch some sleep on the way home.

He tapped out texts, then erased them:  
_I loved the way you..._  
You felt so...  
I remember how you looked underneath me and...

None of that sounded sweet.

_Can't stop thinking about you. Meet me for dinner tonight?_

Good enough. Steve tapped "send" and closed his eyes.

#

Victoria's phone, at last, lit up the dark bedroom.

She slept on.

#

Barton landed the jet on the helipad and the rest of the Avengers woke (except for Stark, who'd flown himself home hours earlier and was probably sound asleep, sprawled across his bed next to Pepper). Steve fitted his shield into its harness on his back, Banner grabbed his duffel bag, Barton slung his quiver over a shoulder and carried his bow; Natasha had nothing to carry. The four of them trudged inside, each to their own quarters.

Blearily, Steve undressed in his ready room, remembering how he and Victoria had last taken his suit off. His cock rose half-heartedly; it was a good thought, but it'd been a long day and Steve was too tired to do anything about it. By military-formed habit, he put all the pieces of his uniform back in their places and fell into the too-soft bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, you are the best! Kudos give me life. I love that y'all are sticking with this story.


	6. Just Another Day at the Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working at Avengers Tower has its benefits and its drawbacks.

Consciousness hits me every morning like a ton of bricks. I open my eyes just a crack, then immediately curl into the fetal position, shoving my face in the pillow to block out the evil sun. Then the bargaining starts: two more minutes and I'll get up. Five more minutes. Okay, it's been ten. Okay, I'll be awake, but I'm gonna stay under the covers and check my phone.

This morning, my phone wasn't in its usual spot, charging on my night stand. I had a moment of panic before I remembered falling asleep with it clutched in my hand. I swept my hand underneath the pillows and behind the mattress until I found it.

Steve had sent me a text while I was asleep, dammit! It said: _Can't stop thinking about you. Meet me for dinner tonight?_

I texted back: _Morning, soldier. What time?_

I checked my other notifications and social media—Kayla had posted some Instagram photos of her night; I kinda wished I'd been there—and finally hauled myself out of bed to start getting ready for the day. I had just picked out my clothes when Steve's reply came: _The minute you're off work._

I sent back: _It's a date._

Good thing I was alone. No one saw the happy little shimmy dance I did.

#

Yesterday had been a late night, true, but Steve wasn't much for sitting around. He'd gotten up this morning feeling rested. Now, he was back at work.

He leapt and executed a spin that added the weight of his whole body to the centrifugal force propelling the shield. It made a muffled clang as it hit the target, a modified lineman's blocking dummy bolted to the floor some 20 feet away, and ricocheted back to Steve. The dummy was wrapped in a new Kevlar-lined padding that, hopefully, wouldn't split after a single training session. Steve just supposed to hit it a few times to test it, but he wasn't holding back.

He mentally tested the muscles of his arms, legs, and core. Something about that spin didn't feel quite right. If Bucky were here, he'd be able to say what it was, Steve thought. The two of them had come up with most of his repertoire fighting with the Howling Commandos. They drilled on days they didn't need to fight. All of the guys had helped, pelting Steve with rocks (not always small ones) to help him learn how to duck behind the shield or suggesting likely trees to bounce it off of like a cue ball, but day in and day out, it was Bucky. Muscle memory kept almost every part of those days fresh, but pieces of the drills were elusive now. And Bucky... well. Bucky probably didn't know those drills anymore, either. Steve could almost think about that without being consumed by grief.

He positioned his shield, then leapt, spun, released the shield at his target. The shield thunked into the Kevlar-wrapped padding with enough force to bounce it back again.

Something about that outside leg. Should he hold it closer or kick his foot out further? Or maybe it was the knee?

Steve took up his opening stance again, then leapt, spun (tuck the knee!), released the shield. _Thunk._ It had a little more force this time when he caught it.

#

On the other side of the gym lab's observation window, I stood with Angelica, the lab tech recording the details of this session, and watched Steve drilling with the shield. He did this amazing spin move about ten times, hurling the shield harder each time. His face was relaxed but totally focused. I sipped the coffee I'd left my office to get, Printouts of Plausible Deniability tucked under my arm. I wasn't a field agent, so I'd never seen Steve in action. This was as close as I'd come. It was mesmerizing. 

Steve stopped and looked at Angelica for direction. She nodded sharply.

Next he set up some heavy mats, stacking them a little higher than his knee. I recognized Kevlar wrapping on the top one; he had said Tony had a team developing something like that. This must be it. Steve took up the shield on his right arm and stepped a few feet away. He dropped into a stance, then took low, long strides—one, two, three—and punched down, driving the rim of the shield into the mats. They fanned out on the edges but the fabric didn't split. Steve moved the shield to his left arm, dropped into a stance with the opposite foot forward, and stepped again: one, two, three _punch down with the shield_. He moved the shield to his right arm, changed his stance again: one, two, three _punch down_. Left arm: one, two, three _punch down_.

I sipped my coffee. When I worked out, I lifted a weight or two, maybe did some crunches, and spent 45 minutes on the elliptical, especially if it was raining or snowing outside and I didn't have any upcoming 5Ks to train for. It didn't much matter if I took a day off or maybe didn't give it my all. Steve's drills had purpose, regardless of what happened with the mats, and he knew it. I could feel it in his intensity, his focus, and the muscles that flexed under his skin when I ran my hands over it.

Of course I wasn't just admiring Steve's skill and focus. He wore a tight gray tech shirt that showed off his muscle definition and running pants that hugged the curve of his butt as he took those one, two, three strides, and I knew what he looked like—what he felt like—with all that clothing in a pile on the floor. I made a mental note to write a positive review for Under Armour, who'd won a bid to provide Captain America's wardrobe after he came out of the ice. _Excellent product. Doesn't stain or wrinkle; easy to remove. A+ would recommend._

He finished this set and looked for Angelica again. She nodded, but he saw me and brightened, then motioned me into the room.

"Is it all right?" I asked her.

"Yeah, that was the last set," she said. "You can go in but not your coffee. Just leave it here."

"Thanks."

"Vick, you're here!" Steve called out. "This is your lab?"

"No, I'm a few doors down the hall. Captain, I admire your dedication, going from a mission last night to hard work today." 

"Not hard work. Initial testing for these Kevlar mats. The shield cuts most things open, but these are holding up so far," he said. "It's a nice surprise, seeing you."

"I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner."

"Either way, I'm really glad it did," Steve said, stepping close to me, standing just inside my personal space. It was an intimate distance that Angelica couldn't mistake if she were to look through that window at this exact moment—or anybody else who walked by. The lab had a decent amount of foot traffic, and it might get more than usual if anybody heard Captain America was on this floor today and wanted to come gawk. Steve's back was to the window, completely blocking anyone's view of me, but the way he tilted his head down would make it obvious that more than a conversation was happening, even though we were just talking. Being so close to Steve was electric. I could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of my blouse. 

_To hell with it,_ I thought. _Let them gawk. Let them see._ I tilted my face up to his and our lips brushed once, then twice. 

The door clicked open.

"Excuse me, um, Captain Rogers. Hi, Victoria," Angelica said. "We've got all we need here. I just need to collect the test fabric for visual inspection. Thank you, sir."

"Thank you, Angelica," Steve said, then turned back to me. His eyes searched mine, like a million things were going through his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was pitched low. "Looks like I'm done here."

"Then I'll see you at five o'clock," I said.

"Five o'clock." He smiled.

I picked up my coffee cup and printouts as I sailed past Angelica, who looked a tad bit surprised, and another white-coated lab tech. There was a nonzero chance I'd be the talk of the lab by the end of the day, but right now? I didn't give a shit.

#

Nobody said a single word to me about Steve for the rest of the day. Just in case, though, I hid out in the lab to finish a recommendation report.

Three small metal disks clattered on the desk next to my hand. I jumped. The owner of the taser disks was leaning nonchalantly against my desk. 

"You can manufacture those, right?" asked Natasha Romanov.

"Y-Yeah. We can get access to the machinery. The schematic is in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database," I managed. My cool had flown out the window and was gone. I hoped I'd see it again sometime.

"Can you modify it to let me choose a delay time before it discharges?"

"Yeah, yeah, should be easy." My breathing was slowly returning to normal. "How long of a delay?"

"Ten seconds up to five minutes?"

I nodded. The timer would have to be in increments of ten seconds, but then it'd take forever to get it up to five minutes. You'd be in the field getting shot at, trying to push this tiny button thirty times. Maybe a selector for minutes and a selector for seconds. But on a disk that small—oh, shit, I hadn't said any of that out loud yet. _Figure it out later, self._

"Yeah, that can happen," I said.

Natasha stood and walked around the lab, not touching anything but looking closely at whatever she passed.

"You're passionate about your work," she said.

"It's where I spend all my time."

"Not _all_ your time. At least, not lately." She smirked and I blushed. Okay, so _one_ person had something to say about me and Steve Rogers. "How are you with a gun?"

"I pass my yearly certifications. I don't practice often, but I'm not _bad_ ," I said.

"Hand to hand?"

"Uh, _that_ I'm bad at." I laughed nervously.

"Can you fly a plane?"

"No." Why was this starting to feel like a job interview I was failing?

"Can you learn?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, this chapter has been the toughest to write so far. Some setup happening for later chapters. I hope the seams don't show too much!
> 
> Next chapter will be more of what the people want to read.


	7. You Won't Break Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Victoria have a dinner date. [Spoiler: Instead of getting dinner, they earn this fic the Explicit rating and the Top Steve Rogers tag. Enjoy!]

Steve put the shield away in his ready room and started stripping off his workout clothes. True, he had to work hard for his post-serum body to sweat at all, but it eased his mind to push his workouts that hard. Even if he was just testing out some Kevlar-wrapped mats. He set the water temperature where he liked it and got in the shower.

Seeing Victoria was a good surprise, even though he knew he'd see her again in a couple of hours. He couldn't decide if he liked her better in leggings and an oversized shirt, like she’d worn yesterday, or dressed for work in a blouse and skirt. Both outfits had their advantages—mostly in her legs. Victoria had a great pair of legs.

He couldn't help but remember being between those legs. He quite hoped he'd get back there tonight. And she'd said she wouldn't mind if he shoved her up against a wall. Hmm.

Steve's cock rose a little, and he seemed to feel the water more acutely as it ran over his skin, rinsing away the soap. He wouldn't mind shoving Victoria up against a wall, but the bed seemed more inviting. You could throw someone on a bed. Change positions, maybe. Linger. Take your time.

There were still hours to go until he'd see her next. It'd be a tough wait.

#

Exactly at 5 p.m., Steve knocked on my office door, smelling of his usual soap and looking smart in jeans and a crisp white T-shirt under his blue jacket.

"Hey, soldier," I said. "Let me finish sending this email and we'll head out. Where do you want to eat?"

"Someplace that has great burgers. Wasn't there that bar and grill a couple blocks over? On 46th?"

"I know there's a steak house on 46th. We can check it out. I'll need different shoes if I'm gonna walk very far, though." I stretched out my legs a little so Steve could take note of my heels—okay, yes, that was a pose. It totally worked, though. Steve's gaze traveled down to my legs and lingered there. "Walk me to my apartment?"

Oh, I had this planned, and now it was time to pull it off. I set my feet on the floor and rose slowly, gracefully, sensually. Steve's gaze traveled back up, taking in my pencil skirt, the curve of my hips, my sensible yet trendy work blouse, and the curves of my breasts, high and firm in the marvel of engineering that was the modern push-up bra. I would be lying if I said I didn't dress myself this morning with the hope of exactly this moment. Judging by the growing bulge in Steve's jeans, it was definitely working for me.

I grabbed my purse. "Ready?"

"Oh! Yeah, yeah," Steve said. "Yeah, Vick, let's go."

I closed my office door and took his hand for maximum impact as we walked the few steps to the elevator.

"Floor fifty-three, JARVIS," I said.

"Of course, Ms. Bartlett."

The elevator rose. Steve made his move, slipping a hand behind my head and crushing my mouth with his. I reveled in the firm kiss, the closeness of our bodies, and slipped my arm around his waist.

 _Ding!_ The elevator doors began to slide open and Steve and I immediately released each other, adjusting our clothing. We made eye contact and smiled at the same time. I was beginning to think we weren't going to make it to that place on 46th.

We were the picture of decorum as we walked down the hall to my apartment and I unlocked the door. Once I closed it behind us, however...

Steve picked up where he left off, kissing me over and over again, hands around my waist and sliding down to caress my hips, my ass. I dropped my bag where we stood and reached up to clasp my hands behind his neck, returning each kiss. I kicked off my shoes, even though it'd increase the height difference between us. Those heels were sexy but not built for comfort. Then Steve stepped forward—right on my fucking toe. "Ow!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry," he breathed, planting kisses with each one. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," I laughed. "I'm pretty durable. In fact, I am quite sure you won't break me." 

That seemed to be exactly what he wanted to hear. He kissed his way down my neck, holding himself close to me. The hard ridge in his jeans pressed up against my lower belly, and I was done for. I pulled his face back to mine. I teased his lips with my tongue and his mouth opened, his tongue slipping into my mouth, tasting me. His hand gripped my ass and I wrapped my leg around his thigh, moaning his name.

His hand roamed from my ass down to my thigh, then slowly back up, tugging up the hem of my skirt as he went. I wrapped one arm around his neck and used my other hand to pull his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans. I had to touch him; my hand was hungry for the warmth of his skin.

"Vick," he said between kisses. "You are so beautiful. What are you wearing underneath that? And how hard do I have to work to get it off you?"

"It is five steps to the bedroom," I said. "Let's go there. Now."

He pulled me into another intense kiss, hands roaming all over my hips. I tugged his shirt higher, and he broke the kiss just long enough to pull his shirt off. I stepped back to admire the view—Steve Rogers with his shirt off is a sight to savor—and slowly undid the buttons of my blouse, one by one, walking backwards to my bedroom. Steve rested his hands on my waist and watched, in step with me. When the last button was undone, he slid the blouse off my shoulders and planted kisses from bra strap to collarbone to cleavage, nuzzling his face in my tits. He started from the other bra strap and kissed the same path. His wandering hands found the zipper of my skirt and pulled it down, slowly wriggling the skirt down my hips until it dropped to the floor.

Steve knelt and kissed his way down my belly, then further down. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of my panties—which matched my bra today, hallelujah—and slid them down too. He skimmed his hands up my thighs, over my hips, and around to my back, standing to kiss me again. I rocked my head back, opening fully to his kiss. Steve expertly unhooked my bra while I dropped my hands to his belt and undid it. My bra landed somewhere near the rest of my clothes. Steve's jeans, then his boxers followed suit.

I laid myself back on the bed, Steve only a few inches away. I spread my legs to let him settle on his knees between them, and he bent to lavish my breasts with attention. He cupped them, kissed both of them all over, and sucked on each sensitive nipple, gently pinching the one that wasn't in his mouth. It lit a fire between my legs.

"Steve," I moaned, and dragged my fingers down his shoulders. I was getting more sharply aware that nothing was filling my pussy, which was starting to ache with need.

He made eye contact and held my gaze as he kissed a familiar trail down my belly, kissed my pubic mound. He scooted himself down the bed and positioned my legs on his broad shoulders.

"Victoria," he moaned. He closed his eyes and parted my lips with his tongue, tasting this deep part of me, teasing one side and then the other, slowly making his way to my clit. He swirled his tongue around it, then gently worried it back and forth. I ran my hands through his short hair, rested them on his head between my legs. If my pussy ached before, it was nothing to the ache I felt now.

"Steve, please," I said. "This is really good but I need you inside me."

He rose up, wiped his face, and laid down beside me, his right hand on my mound.

"How's this?" His fingers slipped between my folds and one finger dove deeper, slowly fucking me, then settling into a rhythm. "Yeah? You're so fucking wet."

I grabbed a fistful of sheet and Steve covered my mouth with his when I moaned, rocking my hips against his hand as he sent a second finger to join the first. I reached for his shaft, and though I was unsurprised to find it rock hard, I felt myself getting wetter around Steve's fingers as I slowly stroked his cock.

"Harder," I told him.

He raised his eyebrow and made the next few thrusts the tiniest bit harder.

"I said you won't break me. Oh, God, harder!"

He nibbled that sensitive place on my neck. "Do you want it hard?"

"Yes!"

Nibbling became a bite, sharp but gentle. "Do you want me to be a little rough?"

"Shit, yes!"

"Good," he said. "I want to be rough with you." He kissed me hard, slowly withdrawing his fingers. I missed them immediately, but I definitely wanted what was coming next.

Steve grabbed a condom from my night stand and rolled it on. He propped himself up on one hand, his broad shoulders and one well-muscled arm towering over me. His other hand guided that hard cock to my entrance, settling the tip right there, then slowly slipping it in and back out. It was torture. I wanted him deep inside me, I wanted him to fill me, and he was taking his sweet fucking time about it.

"Steve, I swear to fuck," I moaned.

"You wanted me to be rough."

"This is the opposite of rough."

"It is for now."

He kissed me and slid his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust. My pussy was wet and ready from his tongue and fingers, and I could feel my inner walls gripping him, nearly dragging him as deep as I wanted him. Finally his control seemed to wane and each thrust was deeper, deeper, until he finally drove himself home. I moaned, finally stretched just the way I wanted, and dropped my hips open wider to take all of him. 

"Victoria," Steve groaned. He pressed down to kiss me, letting some of his weight settle over me, then started rocking his hips. The friction alone almost had me beyond words already. 

"You still want it harder?" he asked, his voice deep.

"Ohh! Yes!" I cried, trying to keep the volume down. If we'd been overheard in Steve's quarters, my neighbors would definitely be having some interesting dinner conversation if I couldn't be quiet.

His thrusts came faster, harder. He kissed me, then dropped his head onto my shoulders, wholly absorbed in thrusting his cock into me again and again. I wrapped my legs around him and my hands sought for a grip on his back, keeping him right where he was. 

"Like that?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," I moaned. Even his back was all muscle, and I had nothing to hold onto.

"Because I don't think that's very hard."

 _Oh shit,_ I thought, because words weren't making it out of my mouth anymore. Steve leaned forward a little, pressing me down, then dug deep and fucked me harder. His chest slid back and forth over my hardened nipples. Tension coiled low in my belly. My pussy was wet enough to drip. I grabbed my knees and pulled them back, letting him thrust deeper until my cervix started to feel sore and my hips might be stuck this far open.

"There you go," he said. "Nice and slippery. Now we can be rough."

My head jerked back and all I could do was moan.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes. Fuck! Yes! Yes!" I managed, in time with his thrusts.

He dropped down to support himself better on his elbows, our whole bodies now sliding against each other. "Victoria..." Now he fucked me hard, his cock slamming into me, my legs practically at his shoulders again. The walls of my pussy tightened around his cock, and it seemed like every muscle in my body was tensing as our bodies collided in perfect rhythm. I could feel my orgasm building. It was so close. 

Steve lifted his head and looked me straight in the eyes, still thrusting and thrusting. I held his gaze for an intense moment. Naked, unbridled lust.

"Come," he said. "You're close. I want to feel it. Come."

His order sent me over the edge and I cried out as the tension in me exploded. I went wetter and tighter and then, when I couldn't stand it another minute, Steve murmured, "Fuck, Victoria. Fuck!" His rhythm stuttered and I watched his eyes close as he came. He slowed the pace as my hips went slack beneath him. I reveling in the sensation of just letting him fuck me however he wanted, with no resistance. After a few more lazy thrusts he stopped, kissing me gently, his cock still throbbing inside me. I didn't want him to ever take it out. We could lie here just like this for hours, right?

"You're fucking amazing," Steve said. He kissed me again and again. "Such a fine piece of ass."

I laughed—not very heartily; I didn't have my breath back yet—and smacked his shoulder with the little strength I had left. He grinned. "Who knew Captain fucking America had a filthy mouth?" I said.

"You did, sugar tits. And you didn't have any complaints about my mouth a few minutes ago."

"Still don't. Oh my god."

"You're okay?"

"More than okay. I'm fucking delighted. Shit." I brushed a hair out of my face; the effort to raise my arm that high was substantial.

He rolled off of me, threw the condom in the trash, then snuggled up next to me. I nestled my head on his shoulder and pulling the blankets up around us. Steve kissed the top of my head.

"Now I'm really hungry. Do you still want burgers?"

I laughed. "I can't... I don't think I'll be going anywhere for a while."

"We'll stay here, then. You got takeout menus?"

"Yeah. Drawer in the kitchen."

"Okay. I'll get the menus and we'll order in."

"Okay." We shared a quick kiss and Steve got up. He put his boxers back on but nothing else. In a few minutes, I'd be recovered enough to change into something comfortable, scoop up my work clothes and put them away, but for now I watched this glorious specimen of a man amble around my apartment and thanked my lucky stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was tough to capture Steve's character and also make him a little forceful in bed. Hope y'all enjoyed this attempt.
> 
> Kudos and comments make me do the happy shimmy dance. Thank you!! <3


	8. Something Comes Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything can't be fluff and roses all the time.

"It'll be here in a few minutes," Steve said.

"Come back to bed, then," I called. I'd tossed on an old S.H.I.E.L.D. T-shirt and a cute pair of panties. Hey, you gotta wear the cute ones when somebody's around to see them.

Steve tucked himself under the covers right next to me. I slid my hand around his waist, unable to stop myself from touching him when that warm skin brought my hands to him like a magnet. His big hand splayed over my hip. Maybe that feeling was mutual.

"Once the front desk alerts us, though, I'm out. Don't make me wait for my butter chicken."

I mock-gasped. "Not even dressed?! Have you no modesty?"

"Kinda don't, no." He chuckled. "The army wouldn't get far if every soldier had to have a private room or a tent to himself just to change clothes. And here, it's kind of the same. You get suited up and you move. You're not looking at anybody; nobody's looking at you. What about you, Victoria? Are you very modest?"

"What would you do if I said yes after all that?" I laughed. He blushed a little. "Seriously, though, I'm not, or at least not when I'm at home. As soon as I come in the door, the bra comes off and the pants come off. Comfort is very important," I explained.

"You just walk around like this, in your shirt and underwear?" he asked.

"Just like this," I smiled.

He looked pleasantly lost in thought for a moment, absently caressing my hip and thigh.

"You like the idea?" I prodded.

Steve looked me in the eye and smiled. "Far be it from me to stand in the way of comfort. And I can't say I mind the view."

A chime sounded in my apartment. "Please come to the front desk," an automated not-JARVIS voice said.

"Be right back." He gave me a peck on the lips, then whipped on pants, shirt, socks, and shoes with the speed of a man who, indeed, did that all the time.

I went to the kitchen and set out some forks and bowls, in case Steve wanted to be fancy about it and not eat from a takeout container like I usually did, then fished my phone out of my bag at the front door. Turns out I'd had a few missed texts. 

Kayla: _hey gimme a call later_

Eliza: _vick u gotta call me_  
Eliza: _abotu that guy from friday nite. whats his name ?_

I replied to them both to ask what was up. Then Steve was back with our food, and we busied ourselves dividing up the rice and scooping our portions.

A few minutes later, my forgotten phone buzzed on the counter where I'd left it.

Kayla: _Vick_  
Kayla: _VICTORIA_  
Kayla: _IS THERE ANYTHING YOU SHOULD BE TELLING ME_  
Kayla: _http://www.tmz.com/2015/11/04/captain-america-steve-rogers-girlfriend-at-last/_

I stared at the screen. "Uh, Steve?" 

"Mm?" he asked, still finishing his bite.

"We weren't... taking it slow, right? This... Us. And you're okay with that, right?"

"Right," he said cautiously, knitting his eyebrows.

"Ms. Bartlett, Captain Rogers, I'm sorry to intrude," JARVIS said, which shocked me all over again because I didn't even know I could get JARVIS in my apartment. "But I've just been informed that the gossip site TMZ has published a story that mentions both of you."

"JARVIS, can you bring it up on my phone?" Steve was already pulling it out of his pocket.

"Easily, sir."

I sank onto the couch to read it. There was a photo of Steve in uniform, from D.C. news footage on the day S.H.I.E.L.D. went down, paired with one of him in plain clothes signing autographs outside Blue Moon on Saturday morning. The big one, however, showed him and me dawdling in each other's arms minutes afterward, in that alley off 43rd street. My face was visible—well, parts of it. "Captain America: Back Off, Ladies, He's Taken!" blared the headline. "Steve Rogers, New York's own First Avenger, has finally found someone to replace lifelong love Peggy Carter." _Ouch. Low blow._ I saw Steve wince when he got to that part. I skimmed the rest: "Exclusive photos show the pair after a casual breakfast in Manhattan on Saturday morning... anonymous insider reports that Cap's keeping his new flame close. The lady is rumored to be Victoria Bartlett, a scientist at Avengers Tower... Rogers and Bartlett were caught smooching earlier today..." 

Oh, God. This blew office gossip out of the water. I texted Kayla back while Steve finished reading.

Me: _That is in fact me_  
Kayla: _YOU LUCKY BITCH_  
Kayla: _when were you gonna tell meeeeeeeeeeeee_  
Me: _Soon! It's new, there wasn't time_  
Me: _I only met him Friday. You were there_  
Kayla: _You move quick, lady_  
Kayla: _breakfast??_  
Kayla: _aND WORK THIS MORNING JESUS CHRIST_  
Kayla: _I AM MI SSING IMPORTANT DETALS_  
Kayla: _ABOUT YOU NAILING CAPTAIN AMERICA_  
Me: _omfg. I am not texting you about this_

She called. I immediately tapped "decline."

Me: _Let me hash this out with him first and then details_  
Me: _It's kind of a big deal_  
Kayla: _Fine, but you are not off the hook_

I groaned. 

Steve looked at the floor, then ran his hand through his hair. "Vick, I'm sorry."

"It was gonna happen sooner or later," I said flatly.

"No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—I'm in the press for something different every day. I got nothing to lose," he said. "But you... They're gonna chase you, now, every time you leave the Tower. I should never have exposed you to that. You deserve to go out with your friends or—or get groceries without being photographed."

"Steve, I really don't think they're gonna go after me that hard."

"They'll go after any woman I'm seen with."

Someone knocked on my door. "Open up the love nest, Captain Smoochy," Tony called. 

"Do you mind if I...?" Steve asked, already at the door. 

"Uh, you'd best." I dropped my phone and shot straight to my bedroom for a pair of pants.

"You look positively relaxed," Tony was telling Steve when I got to the foyer, still adjusting my waistband. He turned to me. "Did you get dressed just now? What—On second thought, never mind. Let's think about how we're gonna get on top of this. And I want to be very clear that I mean the TMZ story," he said. "Rogers, care to make a public statement? Large donation to a charity of Victoria's choice? Wedding of the century?"

"I think we should go straight to the wedding," Natasha said, teasing but also not.

"No," Steve said immediately. _Well, ouch._ "Victoria, I know we just—you and I are—It's good between us right now. I don't want to rush this."

Tony snorted.

"Hear me out," Natasha said. "You don't even have to have a ring just yet. Make the piranhas see a very boring, very serious long-term relationship. Steve, it's no less than anyone expects of you. Show them that and they'll believe it. Give a couple of interviews, make a few appearances together, and act like it's the least interesting news of the day. Then you're free to go about your business."

No one spoke for a moment.

"This is really good naan," Tony said, munching on the leftovers. 

"Oh, help yourself," I said.

"Romanoff's right, though. Something to show what a deeply loving, committed relationship these star-crossed lovers have developed in the last week. Meet her friends, meet her family—"

"No, no, no, that's not necessary," I said. 

"No, it's very necessary. It's serious. You're deeply in love. You might even marry her," Tony said, turning to Steve again. "You need to know her people."

Steve looked to Natasha for help. She shrugged. "They can't be surprised when the two of you are seen in public. And they can't give statements to the tabloids."

"Okay, here's what we do," Tony said. "You two take a few minutes, finish... getting dressed, and show up at the front entrance to the Tower. JARVIS, how big is the crowd there?"

"Approximately thirty-seven people. There appear to be representatives present for a number of celebrity gossip outlets," the AI replied.

I pointed at the ceiling, dumbfounded. "Has JARVIS been here the whole time?"

Tony rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You go out there, you say you're very much in love, but you ask for privacy—"

"I stand in front of a crowd and ask for _privacy_?" Steve said.

"You ask for privacy," Tony confirmed. "They're gonna want to know who Victoria is. Promise them they'll find out, and maybe they won't go digging for all the dark details of her shady past. Wait, you don't actually have a shady past, do you?"

"Not so much, no," I said.

"Good, because you'll need to be a squeaky clean, apple-pie American sweetheart if you want the public to accept you as the future Mrs. Captain America."

I shook my head. "I thought there wasn't—"

"That's for you two lovebirds to figure out. In the morning, I'll put a PR team together and we'll strategize from there. Right now, you need to show the public your good side. Freshen up and get out there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have fiddled with this chapter for months, but I chose to keep the story rolling instead of reworking it yet again. Hope you like it!


	9. Not Quite Fluff and Nonsense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve makes some decisions. One of them is that Victoria should stay at his place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a little longer because I had to teach myself the next thing. Hope you like where the story's going! (tbh I do not 100% know where the story's going)

"No. No statement." Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I'm not going anywhere." 

Tony stopped and turned around, his hand still reaching for the door handle. "Cap, we _just_ figured this out," he whined.

"This isn't right. Those piranhas are hungry, and if you give them a tiny bit of flesh, it'll set off a feeding frenzy," Steve said, pointing at the door for emphasis. "We can't do that. I can't go out there and do some song and dance, pretend I've been in love with Victoria all along, and have them start counting down the days till we walk down the aisle. I'm sorry, Victoria."

I raised my hands. "No offense taken. I like you, Steve, but I'm not fishing for a ring." Much as I'd love to get swept off my feet, much as I might secretly want Steve to tell the world he loved me, he was right. This wasn't some fairy tale. Besides, he hadn't even told _me_ he loved me.

Steve set his jaw and nodded, then turned back to Tony and Natasha. "We've got Fury's briefing in the morning. That means a mission coming up. Whoever those ghosts were in Saskatchewan—they're still out there. And I know that's not all we've got on our plates. I am _not_ gonna go out there and talk to the gossip rags about my feelings when we have work to do."

Tony gave Steve most of a minute before needling him again. "But you _should_ talk about your feelings. Don't keep them all bottled up."

"Stark—"

"Okay, no statement. We're gonna go," Natasha said, opening the door. "We'll just leave you two alone."

Four camera phones were shoved in the doorway. She slammed the door again. Hard. A couple times. Over the crunch of plastic.

"They're outside her apartment? JARVIS, fire those people," Tony said."

"I'll begin the process, sir," replied the AI.

Steve was next to me before I knew it, slipping his hands around my waist. "Vick," he said quietly. "The Avengers' floors are more secure than these residence levels. Come up and stay with me until we know these people won't bother you."

"I'll pack a bag," I said, nodding. Fleeing my apartment was probably overkill for the situation, but I'd take an excuse to stay with Steve.

He kissed me quickly, softly, then let me go.

"Post a guard outside her door for the next 24 hours whether she's here or not," Steve commanded. "Keep an eye on her lab, too."

"JARVIS, you heard the captain," Tony said.

#

All three of them waited until I'd gathered clothes, my laptop, anything I'd need for the next couple of days. Steve, thoughtful man, had even put the takeout leftovers in the fridge and gathered up my trash, which he had one of the security guards take out when we left. The guards had gotten the prospective "insider source" crowd to disappear, too.

We rode silently in the elevator to the upper floors, Steve sticking close by me even in this small space. Tony turned and winked at me once. Natasha, separately, put a hand on my shoulder briefly and gave me a half-smile. They'd all be protecting me from the big, bad photographers, it seemed.

The doors opened. "Good night, kids," Tony called, heading down the hall. "I'm going to pretend I have no idea what you're about to get up to."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "He acts like he's the one with virgin ears," she said. "I'll be in the common room watching a movie with Clint. Call me if you need anything."

"Barton was here the whole time?" Steve asked.

She shrugged. "Said he didn't want to get involved in your personal life."

#

Steve showed me into his quarters like I hadn't been here two days ago, ripping my clothes off and jumping his bones. Well, the bone-jumping had been mutual. _Very_ mutual. Still, that first time had been less awkward than me standing here, overnight bags in hand, while Steve worked extra hard to be a good host by telling me where the couch was and apologizing for not having guest towels. Amazing how statements like "I like you, please share my bed, but let's not get hasty" could fizzle the chemistry between two people. Especially when they were said out loud. In front of witnesses.

"Can I get you, uh..." Steve opened the fridge. It was empty except for some condiments. "Water? Sorry, I eat with the team so I don't keep much here. There's a coffee machine with these little pods. I think one of 'em's tea."

"Tea would be lovely in a minute, thanks. Do you mind if I...?" I held up a overnight bag.

"No, please, make yourself at home. There's only the one bedroom, but if you can't find it, or if you need anything, I'll be right here," he said, bracing himself against a gleaming countertop in the nearly empty kitchen. "Anything at all. Or you can tell JARVIS if you need something sent up."

"I've been to your bedroom, Steve," I said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"Right." He squirmed a little. _Captain America, the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan, folks,_ I thought. I hadn't seen him in the field, but I'd seen him execute a plan, telling people where to go and how to achieve an objective. And he hadn't had any problem telling me exactly what to do when we were naked. This was, apparently, different.

The bathroom, also gleaming but nearly empty, reminded me of show bathrooms in a home improvement store. I was tempted to start checking fixtures for price tags. Instead I put my toothbrush and makeup bag on an empty shelf, retrieved my favorite ugly coffee mug from its soft nest in my clothes, and settled the rest of my stuff in the bedroom.

"Victoria, we can order some groceries in the morning," Steve began again as soon as I returned. "Just tell JARVIS. Tony has people who handle it. Get anything you want. You—you're probably gonna be here a few days, and I won't be here the whole time. Anything you need to be comfortable. We can get things from your apartment, too, if you want. Here, this one says 'relaxation blend.'" He thrust a tea pod in my general direction.

"Thanks." I put my mug in place and started the brewer. Steve's mug, already full of tea, was a standard white one with the red, white, and blue shield plastered on it. I had to ask him. "Does... everything you own have the stars and stripes on it?"

He shrugged. "People send me all kinds of things. Most of it just sits in storage, but when something's useful, I use it. Where did you get your mug?"

"I made it," I laughed. "Pottery class. Kayla, Eliza, and I had a coupon for one, so we went. Turns out we're all pretty horrible at making pottery. I thought I'd never look at this ugly thing again, but I made it and somehow I love it." The misshapen mug fit my hand perfectly, held just the right amount of coffee, and reminded me of the spot-on Bob Ross impression Kayla had done while making her own mug. Eliza and I had been in stitches, and the pottery teacher had shot us looks like we were seventh graders.

He smiled. "I'm glad you brought it," he said tenderly. "And I'm glad you're here."

"I kind of don't believe I am. It's a little unreal."

"Yeah, I was pretty blunt about not having a wedding," Steve said, running one hand through his hair. At close range, I couldn't help but watch his biceps flex. "You didn't tell me to kick rocks after that."

"I meant the thing about having a crowd at my door looking for gossip to sell to TMZ because I'm dating Captain America, but that too." 

"Are we dating?" he asked. He might have been checking on our relationship status, might have been asking about the correct term. I couldn't tell.

"We must be _something_." I picked a place to start. My most favorite place. "We're having sex—at least, I assume that will continue? Because I want that to continue."

He chuckled and took my hand. "Yes. Let's count on that."

"Okay." I reached out my other hand and he took it in his. Such big hands, such long fingers. His thumbs stroked the backs of my hands. "So we're having sex. We've gone out together. There was one time you paid and one time I paid; that's very equitable. And now I have a toothbrush at your apartment."

"Those are the boxes we need to check?"

"Those are the ones that matter to me. One last thing. Are you seeing anybody else?" I asked, very seriously.

Steve laughed. "It isn't obvious?"

"Obvious or not, I'm asking the question. Are you?"

"No, Victoria, I'm not seeing anyone else." He bent his head toward me, and when he smiled his little half-smile, the rest of the world disappeared. No Tower, no threats, no kitchen. Just Steve and me.

"Neither am I." I looked him straight in the eye and shot down every daydream that had bubbled up in the past 24 hours. "And we've said there will not be a wedding, there's no ring, you have not gone down on bended knee and asked me to do you the honor et cetera, and I am not the future Mrs. Captain America, so we are very clearly not engaged."

Steve's smile faltered, but only slightly. "Very carefully considered," he said.

"Then we must be dating," I concluded.

"One question first."

My heart leapt into my throat. "Yes?"

"Have we gone on any dates?" Steve grinned. "I mean, if we're dating, we should... date. And you were out with your friends the night I met you."

I laughed and kissed him with relief. "Breakfast counted as a date, right?"

"Here, how about this. It's not that late," Steve said. "We can have a date right now. Netflix and chill?"

I laughed. "You know about Netflix and chill?"

He grinned. "I know about Netflix and chill! I gotta stay informed about these things. I know there's a lot of pop culture to catch up on, but come on, give me credit for the parts I understand already."

"All right, then you pick what we watch." 

He found the remote and navigated his entertainment setup to put Netflix on the big screen. I made myself comfortable on the couch, and Steve chose an old TV series.

"This is what I'm working my way through lately. Have you seen it?"

"Not since I was a kid."

"Kids watched this?"

"Well, it wasn't _for_ kids. When I was growing up, there was a TV channel called Nickelodeon that used to show cartoons during the day, but then it'd switch to Nick at Nite around dinnertime and air these old shows for the grownups. I'd just keep watching when those came on."

Steve settled on the couch next to me and hesitantly put his arm around my shoulders. "Can I...?"

I snuggled right against him. "You have touched me in far more intimate ways already, Steve, but thank you for asking. Yes, please do."

"I like it when you say yes," Steve murmured, settling his arm more firmly around me, the solid weight of it pulling our bodies more tightly together.

"This feels real," I said after a moment. "When I can reach out my hand and touch you. When you're this close to me. I can believe this is real." I put my hand on his chest and felt the warmth of it, felt it rise and fall, felt his muscles shift as he bent his head to kiss the top of mine. It was deeply comforting.

#

Victoria was quiet for a while longer, and Steve realized she was asleep. He wasn't all that interested in the TV anymore, but he didn't want to move yet and disturb her. It felt good to hold her close, to shut out the world and, specifically, the screaming crowd of at least thirty-seven people far below them on the street. 

He could get used to having her here. Dating, then.

Whether the crowd would back off or intensify, though—that was the question. There was safety and there was imprisonment. He had to know that when he left, however long he was gone, Victoria would be able to move in the world, to hold her own.

Steve had the sinking feeling that the closer she got to him, the harder that would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what TV show would Steve be catching up on? Comment and let me know!! You'd all have waited at least another week for this chapter if I hadn't punted on that.


	10. Sinnamon Roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria really enjoys waking up next to Steve. He's pretty happy about it, too. The rest of the Avengers? Well, they're certainly not *bored.*

I woke up in Steve's bed, his arm still around me. He must have carried me there after I fell asleep. I still had my T-shirt and yoga pants on from last night, but Steve slept in only a pair of boxers.

They did a very poor job of concealing the erection he was sporting underneath them.

I skimmed my hand over Steve's rock-hard pecs and abs, defined even as he stretched out in bed, as softly as I could. I didn't mean to wake him up; I just wanted to satisfy myself that he was real enough to touch, that I really was here with him, warm in bed with the morning sunlight streaming in. His eyelids fluttered open.

"Good morning," I said.

He kissed me sleepily, then seemed to wake up, feeding passion into the kiss. His tongue teased my mouth open, hungry for me. I widened, opened, let him take as much of my mouth as he wanted. Wetness began to spread between my legs.

Then he broke off. "The briefing," he groaned. "Fury's briefing this morning. I have to go."

"I have to go to work, too, but maybe just... not quite yet."

Before he could respond, I let my hand drift lower, then slipped it into his boxers to take him in hand and stroke him slowly. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"I want something more than your tongue in my mouth," I said.

Steve locked his eyes onto mine. "Yeah? Show me what you can do with your mouth."

I climbed between his legs and tugged his waistband down. This was going to be fun.

Steve tangled his hands in my hair, watching intently. I teased the tip of his cock with my tongue, just a little back and forth underneath the very tip, keeping a rhythm with my hand and feeling him get even harder. His cock was like a column of marble in my hand. I licked my lips and slipped the head into my mouth, sucking gently at first. Steve moaned quietly; I couldn't see his eyes.

I held my mouth slack for this first sloppy part, making sure his whole length was nice and wet. My head bobbed up and down as I took his cock deeper and deeper, until the head nestled into the back of my throat on each thrust. So deep I had to tilt my head back and open my throat to stop my gag reflex. I sucked a little harder and his fingers knotted around my hair. 

"Keep doing that," he said, his voice raspy with more than sleep. His hips started a small thrusting rhythm, wanting to fuck my mouth harder, but instead he held back so he wouldn't overwhelm me. I slowed the rhythm, let up on the suction a little bit, then slowly released his cock from my mouth. The cool air of the room would be a nice contrast on that wet, sensitive skin. I watched Steve moan again and drop his head back, like he was having trouble holding it up off the pillow. 

When he started watching again, I held eye contact, showing both of us that the other was enjoying this. Then I turned my attention to his cock again, teasing my tongue up and down the length of it, stroking the sensitive vein that ran all down the underside to the root. I took just the head in my mouth and let his length slide over my whole tongue a few times. Shit, I loved feeling how hard that kept him.

"Oh fuck," Steve moaned now. His face was slack, his attention on the show I was putting on, and if he still had any brain cells to spare I'd have to work harder—but judging by the way he wound his hands tighter in my hair and his cock started to jump a little, he probably didn't. I sucked harder again, sliding my tongue down his length and reaching the tip of it as low on his cock as I could, then teased that vein on the way back up. Deep, wet suck, then tease on the way back up. Deep, wet suck, then tease.

Now Steve was losing the battle with control. His hands started abandoning my hair to hold my head steady, and his hips started thrusting again. Time to push him over the edge. I took the base of his cock in a firm grip and stroked him, letting the head flop a little in the wet heat of my mouth. Short, hard strokes. Firm suction. Moaning around his cock like I was about to get off, too.

"Fuck yes. Vick! Holy... yeah, take it, I'm gonna—" 

I changed my moans to the "yes, yes!" ones I used when I was about to come and I didn't want him to stop whatever he was doing to me. His knees bent on either side of me and his mouth dropped open. I kept it up until he reached his peak and soared past it with a shout, his cum spurting into the back of my throat. I kept up the suction and stroked more slowly, letting him ride it out. Steve was staring at the ceiling, that square jaw slack, stars in his eyes. I swallowed, then sucked gently again, stretching out his orgasm and watching him get completely blissed out. His cock softened just a little and eventually he stared right at me again, a dopey smile starting to show in the corners of his mouth. I gave him a smile back. Yeah, that was satisfying.

I stepped into the bathroom for a clean towel and wiped my face, then passed the towel to Steve so he could clean himself up. He'd be sensitive and I didn't want to accidentally hurt him. That dopey grin had spread to his entire face by the time I got back.

"Wow, Victoria," he finally said.

"I'd better not keep you away from that briefing any longer," I said, grinning at him.

"Oh, the briefing!" Steve groaned. He rolled off the bed and pulled on clean clothes, checking that there was no evidence to show how we'd spent the past few minutes. He gave me a quick kiss and his eyes flew open at the salty taste of it. I giggled a little. He wiped his mouth again. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he half-shouted, almost out the door already.

#

He was late. He'd been hoping not to be noticed, but that hope disappeared as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. For one thing, he was never late to briefings. For another, Nick Fury had stopped talking and stared right at Steve, who tried to make himself small and slip into his chair unobtrusively. It didn't work. Every eye in the room was on him, even though he was pretty small next to Thor. 

Steve wasn't embarrassed, though. He was late, and his love life was in the papers, and he really should take this briefing a little more seriously. Instead, he felt absolutely great. Like everything was going his way. He put a hand up to his face, trying to look serious and attentive, but he couldn't completely hide his smile.

"I'm glad you could join us, Captain Rogers," Fury said. He dropped a folder in front of Steve. The rest of the Avengers had folders open in front of them.

Tony caught Steve's eye. He saw the little sparkle, the little smile... and he _knew_. He lifted an eyebrow at Steve, who just kept smiling behind his hand.

"Cap, you've got a little something on your..." he stage-whispered, twirling his finger in a circle in the air over his crotch. Steve immediately looked down at his own uniform pants. There was nothing there. Stark just grinned.

"Look, I don't need to know what's got Rogers in such a good mood even when he's late to my briefing," Fury said, even though he did know. 

"I know what it is! It's—It's pretty clear, as a matter of fact," Tony said, nodding rapidly.

"What is it?" Bruce asked, looking up from his folder. "Ow!" He rubbed his arm and stared accusingly at Natasha.

"Focus," Fury said. "We've got a mission coming up that's gonna make Lisbon look like a beach party, and the intel you need isn't gonna be on the gossip sites."

"I'm sorry, but first, I gotta say, this is great. This is great! I am _so_ proud," Tony said. "Do you see this angelic, patriotic face?" He gestured at Steve. "Do you understand what's happening here, what probably happened not fifteen minutes ago? Our precious cinnamon roll, too good, too pure for this world, has become... a _sinnamon roll_. Steve Rogers has done something _dirty_. Like, he _just_ did. Do you realize? This is a beautiful day."

Phil Coulson stood in the corner, awkwardness personified. Too much information. But Clint chuckled. When Clint had first heard about the cinnamon roll meme, he and Tony had sent Steve half a dozen cinnamon rolls every day for a week. Apparently it was still funny. Steve's face burned.

"Actually, I'm gonna make a note to send Victoria some flowers," Tony went on. "She's performing a valuable public service and I, for one, am very, very grateful. It'll be nice to actually concentrate on what Fury's trying to say in these briefings instead of wondering which of my employees our matchmaker here"—Natasha glared at Tony—"will throw in Cap's way next. Hey, what kind of flowers do you send someone for—"

"Stark, not another word." Steve pointed a warning finger at him.

"For being a kind and generous person," Tony finished, hands upraised. "That's all I meant. JARVIS, please send a nice floral arrangement to Ms. Bartlett."

"Right away, sir."

"What's her favorite flower? Do you know, or...?"

"Daisies, like the ones you're gonna be pushin' up if you don't shut your mouth," Steve said.

"Oooh," Tony said, shoulders up around his ears in mock fear.

Thor clapped Steve on the shoulder. "I, too, am proud," he said. "And Jane will be pleased to hear this news. I will suggest to her an, uh... a double date." 

Steve almost laughed. He'd let the ribbing slide, he decided. He'd heard worse. And besides, he had an awful lot of goodwill for his fellow man at the moment. 

Fury closed his eye and rubbed his forehead. "Okay, we have established, from both the news and from... other sources, that Captain Rogers has gotten laid very, very recently. That's great. I'm happy for you, Cap. Not as happy as you are, but I'm happy. Now, I thought I was sending Earth's mightiest heroes into the jaws of goddamn death to retrieve some crucial materiel and fuck HYDRA's shit up. Can you motherfuckers _please_ focus on that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The briefing scene is my favorite so far. It's just fun. Fun and smut in the SAME CHAPTER, y'all. That's how I like to roll.


	11. Let's Catch Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody wants to come talk to Victoria, and normal isn't so normal anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Civil War trailer gave me all the feels and I had to cry, and change the ending of this story three or four times, and cry some more, and then figure out how to get on with things. So, here we go!

That was probably the most fun I've ever had sending a lover out the door. After Steve left, I got ready for work in a hurry. Given the paparazzi invading my space last night, perhaps I'd be forgiven a late start today. Nobody needed to know the real reason why I needed one.

When I opened the door, however, Pepper Potts was standing in front of it looking startled. She still had her fist raised to knock.

"Uh, good morning," I said. 

"Good morning, Victoria, hi," she said, now offering me her hand to shake. "I'm Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries. I don't believe we've met, but I'm here to change that. Do you mind if I steal you away from the lab today? I've arranged for you to have the day off. I'd like you to meet with PR, and maybe the two of us can talk a little, too. I thought now would be the best time, since the team is in a briefing."

"Wow. Come on in, Ms. Potts. I work here so I do know who you are, really, but it's lovely to meet you."

"Call me Pepper, please." She smiled graciously, which just made me feel more awkward somehow. We sat ourselves on the couch. 

"So, I do know about the TMZ story. Congratulations, by the way, on your new relationship."

"Thank you." I had no idea what else to say to that. Awkwardness intensified. 

"I'll consult with the PR team after they talk to you. I do think we can handle this," Pepper mused. "Talk to the right reporter, give the right interview—some exclusive personal thing—and they'll have their tidbits from the right channels without hounding you for anything. I'm thinking a glossy photo shoot to accompany it, too. Something well styled and beautiful. And you and Steve should make an appearance or two around New York, just to give them a photo opportunity. We'll set that up for after the next mission. I'll check with Maria Hill for the mission timeline, if Steve doesn't think to give it to you."

"Whatever you think is best," I said, then decided to be honest for a minute. "I really don't know how to handle this side of things. I've never dated anybody famous before."

"Then you should come to my apartment on Sunday night. We're having a bit of a girls' night," she said, leaning close to me like she was telling me a secret. 

"Uh, okay." I have a real talent for words.

"Me and Jane Foster," Pepper explained. "She's in New York this week, and we might be the only women who know exactly what you're going through. It's not just that the Avengers are on the news. We get together when the team is off saving the world because it's better than watching the news alone and worrying about everything. And we talk because it's easier to commiserate with someone who really does understand how deeply weird all this can be. Trust me, I know it's hard to explain to anyone else what you're feeling when he just... up and leaves sometimes."

"I've noticed Steve does that," I said cautiously.

"Steve is probably the worst one for it. In a way, you're not even supposed to get mad, because he's gone off to save the world, right? But deep down, you're mad, and you're hurting, and you're worried for him all the same. Something like that?"

"That's—Yeah. Nailed it," I sighed.

"I get it," Pepper confessed. "And Jane gets it. Thor once disappeared to Asgard for a year with barely a word to her. And that's why we drink."

I laughed. Pepper might be okay after all.

"Speaking of which, did Steve tell you how to order meals, drinks, groceries? Anything you'll need while you're here?"

"He said to just holler at JARVIS, basically."

"I'm sure that's what he does," she said diplomatically, rising to her feet. "We have a kitchen and a private chef. Or you can order groceries. Here, I'll send you the directions for that and give you a few minutes to collect yourself before the PR team arrives."

About fifteen minutes after we said our goodbyes, I had an email from Pepper with the hours for the kitchen, the info for Stark Industries' grocery ordering site, and her assurances that I could call her anytime about anything. Pepper wanted to be my new best friend, apparently. I ordered myself some brunch plus a healthy stock of coffee pods, snacks, and some prepared meals. My own kitchen was a few floors away, should I feel like cooking, but I really, really didn't feel like cooking. Staying at Steve's place was going to be like staying at a fancy hotel. Maybe I should ask someone to bring my fluffy bathrobe up from my apartment.

Kayla called while I waited for everything to be delivered. 

"You've saved the day," I told her. "I'm off today and I needed a reason to not check my work email."

"I live to serve. You're my entertainment while I walk to Starbucks and back. So, are you for-real sick, or have you and your new boyfriend come down with a condition that causes acute pain if you put any clothes on?"

"Hilarious. Steve's not even here right now."

"Oh, so you can fill me in on every delicious detail! Excellent. I have some questions, for science. Like, did the serum make him bigger _everywhere_ , or—"

I sighed dramatically, so she'd know how very deeply put-upon I felt. "I'm gonna have to tell you, aren't I?"

"Give it up, woman. All the details."

"Lucky you, you've caught me with time to spare and absolutely no one around," I said sarcastically. And then I caught her up on the details she hadn't personally been around to see—well, the pertinent parts, anyway. "...So there was a crowd out front, and we thought Steve should go make a statement. Natasha said he should act like the relationship had been going on forever, he was going to marry me, and everyone had somehow just caught onto us being together. But he refused all of that."

"That was harsh."

"I know. It's like not wanting, um, dark chocolate sea salt caramels until you see them on the shelf at the store, but you can't buy them because you're trying to save money. And you walk away disappointed, even though you didn't expect them when you got to the store, and you also bought some perfectly respectable caramels—"

"Wait, I think I lost where this metaphor was going," Kayla said.

"Forget it. Anyway, there was even a crowd outside my apartment door last night. Steve thought I should come stay with him, and I figured, why the hell not? I like him, I want to spend time with him while I can. So here I am. I'm off today so I can meet with a PR team, and I'm getting inducted into the Secret Society of Avenger Girlfriends on Sunday night."

"Ooh, super secret spy stuff." She laughed. "So, are you coming out with us again on Friday night?"

"If there's no paparazzi stalking me and the PR team lets me, maybe."

"You're gonna have to make an appearance sometime."

"Yeah, but it's gonna be some carefully managed thing with Steve."

JARVIS interrupted before Kayla could protest. Thank God. "Ms. Bartlett, there are two deliveries for you in the lobby." 

"Kayla, I've gotta go. Don't wait up for me on Friday, okay? Talk to you later."

She said her goodbyes and I headed down to the lobby. There were my groceries and a big bouquet of... daisies? The card said, "With gratitude for your devotion to service," signed with Tony Stark's name. What did _that_ mean?

#

Megan, a stylist, and Ben, the Stark Industries PR guy, arrived at Steve's apartment. We spent the next two hours going over my life until they knew more than my therapists ever had: how I usually spend my week, what my childhood was like, why I chose my schools, who my best friends were, what the S.H.I.E.L.D. academy was like, how I liked the lab, what I thought of current politics, who my favorite celebrities were. By the end of it, I was even telling them about the shitty parts of my job and this embarrassing thing Kayla had made me do in college that there might or might not be photos of.

And then we came to Steve. I talked about meeting him—"No, I was drunk, this isn't a good story," I protested. "Just give us the details and let us spin it," Ben insisted—and why I liked Steve, what attracted me to him, even before I'd known who he was.

I was honest. Being with Captain America was a thrill, but I hadn't freaked out when I found out who Steve was because of the connection we'd shared immediately; the connection that seemed to deepen every day I spent with him. I'd met Steve Rogers, not Cap, and that's who I fell for. I didn't say it was love, let alone love at first sight, but there really was something between us. I actually missed Steve, even though it'd only been hours since I saw him last. We hadn't done a whole lot of talking then.

Ben was just asking where I thought the relationship was going when Steve burst through the door, finally back from the briefing. He startled a moment, seeing the small crowd in his apartment, but then he came and sat down next to me.

"Hi, everyone. Hi, Victoria," he said, his voice a little huskier when he spoke to me. He stretched an arm protectively around me and rested his other hand on my knee.

"Hi." I gave him a peck on the lips. "You're affectionate today."

"I have plenty of reason to be affectionate," he said with a knowing grin. I blushed and prayed Ben wouldn't ask about that.

"Captain Rogers, I'm glad you're here," he said instead. "I'm Ben, from Stark Industries' public relations department. This is Megan, our style consultant. If you'll be so kind, I'd like to talk to you, too. Victoria, thank you. Megan is ready to consult with you on some style options for upcoming shoots."

She pulled out a tablet and motioned me away from the two men, immediately asking about colors and fabrics and showing me dresses for one photo shoot they'd arranged, plus some less formal outfits for appearances they suggested. 

"You'll still look like _you_ ," Megan assured me. "We can look at your closet to get a feel for the style choices you're already making, then do more of that, just in an intentional way, that we can scale up for shoots and down for everyday..."

She kept going, but I stopped listening. It was too interesting to watch Steve field Ben's questions.

Steve had personas that he put on and took off in a split second, I discovered. When he was around the Avengers, he dished out sass and he listened for input, though he never seemed to forget that they were his team to lead. In the field, he was decisive and firm, marshaling resources to execute a plan, to achieve an objective. Right now, with Ben from PR? This was a showbiz side of Steve that I hadn't yet seen. His smiles were bigger. He brushed off teasing from Ben that would have had him defensive if Tony, Natasha, or Clint said it. He made more hand gestures, and bigger ones; he somehow leaned forward and kept his shoulders back at the same time. He seemed relaxed and open, but... not all the way, quite. Like any other celebrity interview I'd watched on TV. When Steve answered a question, he paused to think for a moment, spoke his answer, and then stopped, with few qualifiers or tangents. It wasn't flustered rambling like my answers had been. This was obviously familiar territory for him.

No wonder Natasha and Tony had suggested having him make a statement. Steve probably could have made a great one in his sleep.

"Ms. Bartlett?" Megan asked.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," I said with a big, hopefully not very fake smile, trying on an Expert at This Type of Thing persona myself. 

"That's all right. I asked to take your measurements. Can we step away somewhere private?"

I hated to lose sight of Steve again, but duty called. "This way."

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 will come soonish, then some smut, then some feels and a little more smut... and then we'll see where the story goes!


End file.
